


What Lies Beneath

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Actor RPF, Italian actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bisexual Riccardo, Breeding, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Costume Kink, Costumes, Drinking, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fucking during a party, Karaoke, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Party, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Priest costume kink, Sex Is Fun, Sexual Attraction, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wall Sex, Why Did I Write This?, blowjob, fucking a colleague, fucking at a friend's house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 16:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19088818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Riccardo Scamarcio goes to a party and finally hooks up with the guy he's been pining for... his co-star Mille.





	What Lies Beneath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harscrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harscrow/gifts).



> Obviously I have no idea if Ricky is bi or not. But I'd like to think he's open to sex in all it's glorious forms.  
> This was born of a bet and a prompt about costume parties. No idea how it became this. It was supposed to be a quick ficlet. Little did I know!  
> For what it's worth I had fun writing it and that's good enough for me! Hope you enjoy it.

 

Everyone who looked could see there was an undeniably ravenous animal attraction between Mille and Ricky.  
No one could deny it.  
No one except Ricky and Mille, that is.

Publicly they seemed blissfully unaware of the way they gravitated to each other. Like a moon to its planet or a satellite sucked into its natural orbit. Two fools unaware of their boundless, uncontrollable lust.  
  
Every single time they were in the same room or on set or in press, they tried not to show it, but everyone knew. Everyone knew, with eye rolls and shaken heads to prove it. It was palpable between them.  
Desire.  
Visceral fucking need.  
  
It was only a matter of time before they caved.

-  
  
Mille’s mind often wandered back to the past. He was an uneasy soul.  
Restless some would say.    
He spent more time in the past, in fact, than he did the present. At least this was the impression his eyes gave.  
Dark.  
Alien.  
Older than the hours actually spent breathing on this Earth.  
  
Much like his speech when, on rare occasions, he shared his thoughts with the world outside of a script. To describe Mille as taciturn would be a grievous understatement. And yet when he opened himself to someone, he was more verbose and above all wiser than expected.  
People were wrongly dismissive of him, faulted by his good looks. Never judge a book by its cover said the cliche.  
Ricky knew better. Moments of lost thought led him to muse on how Mille might have found his way here by accident. Fallen like a meteorite. Or better yet… a disgruntled star. Perhaps those gorgeous sad eyes of his actually  _were_ chiselled from Callisto itself? Was Ricky his Jupiter?  
He wished he could be.  
Yeah. Ricky thought about Mille all the time. All.the.time.  
  
The object of his affections fared no better. Pensive by nature, his daydreams scrolled by in his mind like credits at the end of a film. He was consumed with liquid longing and the buzzing mess of static that was Mille’s consciousness had only one name, one face at the forefront: Riccardo Scamarcio.

They were a mess these two. And it wasn’t just the overwhelming physical attraction. If either had been questioned, they’d have replied the same thing.

Their souls. Like the near-touching hands of God and Adam in Michelangelo’s fresco… their fucking essences wanted nothing more than to mesh.  
  
-  
Mille was pretty drunk the day of the party. If he was being totally honest, he couldn't remember much from the start. Only something about a crystal, a rabbi, and a traffic cone? Most of the events were a blur.  
Except for one.  
There was one thing that stuck in his mind. What would make him sober up right quick later on.  
Ricky. Cecilia’s party was when he and Ricky finally got together.  
  
Everyone had come as something or someone else. Ricky had… well, Ricky being the cheeky bastard he was… Riccardo had come as Mille.  
_Holy shit._  
As soon as Mille watched him saunter in through the door, that confident sway to his gait… chatter died down immediately. The people crowded into couches and chairs had all swiveled to catch a glance.  
Mille thought his heart would halt.  
  
Jesus Christ he was beautiful. (And not just because arguably Mille was beautiful, too, and now he was dressed _as him. But like… literally him._ Ricky had stolen his clothes from the trailer! _Mille’s_ signature skinny black jeans _. Mille’s_ skin-tight black cashmere jumper showing off the fruits of grueling hours of pilates).  
Mille couldn’t shake the idea of Ricky’s privates being nestled into the jeans he had put on just yesterday. Fuck that was hot.  
Despite all that, quite simply Riccardo would be breathtaking even if he wore a trash bag.  
  
The thing that made the guests in the room simper… darting their attention between the two with a knowing arrogance… was that Ricky only had eyes for Mille. They lit up like green lanterns as soon as he noticed him standing by the bar, nursing a watered-down Moscow Mule.  
Ricky’s fucking malachite eyes pinned Mille’s brownstone ones with a feral look. The corners of his mouth broadened into a grin, dazzling against his olive skin.  
The asshole had chosen this “costume” deliberately.  
  
Mille forgot to breathe. He wouldn’t have snapped out of it if it hadn’t been for the click of pool balls hitting each other from the corner of the room and a shout of exultation bringing him crashing back to reality.  
Ricky studied him from foot to crown. Mille was wearing a priest’s vestments and fucking hell if he wasn’t the sexiest priest Ricky had ever seen. His black hair was styled and he was clean-shaven. Alabaster skin smooth as statue marble under the low light… except for a dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks betraying his mixed heritage.  
_Jesus Christ._  
Everyone was enjoying the way they were eye-fucking each other.

Indeed, the men just stood there. One with a drink in his quivering hand, the condensation from the ice beading down the copper cup and onto Mille’s palm. Heart thundering in his ears.  
The other desperately attempting to keep his cool while fighting a growing erection.  
_Not in these jeans. I can't afford one in these jeans._  
Thoughts of dead kittens and world hunger weren’t enough to keep _his_ hunger at bay.  
And that’s what it was. CARNAL YEARNING.  
Mille did things to him and Riccardo was man enough to finally admit it.  
  
Time seemed to stop and eventually… _mercifully_ Ricky would say later, he was greeted by the host and ushered to another room. Mille followed him out with his eyes, a long sigh escaping his plump lips. Was it of relief or dismay… he wasn’t entirely sure.

God help him. The way Riccardo moved… the way his deep voice made every molecule in the air tremble… the way his locks curled on his forehead like chocolate shavings…  
Mille was gone for him.  
  
_  
  
A little while and _lots_ of alcohol later, Ricky was doing a Karaoke number. It was "Like a Prayer" and the irony was not lost on Mille, especially since the fucker smirked the whole way through it, never unlocking his stare from the young priest in the back.  
Of course, not just an amazing actor and drummer, Riccardo was also a good singer. The audience was mesmerized and demanded another.  
  
Ricky was tipsy. More than happy to oblige. Underwear was chucked onstage when Riccardo finished “Meraviglioso.” Mille was uncomfortably aroused and stole away to the bathroom between songs.  (And he didn't need that underwear, anyway!)  
It got quite a few laughs. Riccardo put them in his pocket and didn’t even blush. Ricky would thank him for that gesture later.

At the next song, Mille got up and sang, too. Asked Ricky to stay up there and sing a duet with him. Riccardo had to chuckle when he saw the lyrics come up on screen.  
Brutto bastardo, he thought. _Fucking bastard._ But he knew to play the game. He’d make Mille pay for it, though. He would. In due time.  
  
When Ricky was singing “A Whole New World” with him it was like the words were being spoken just to them. The room faded away. Just them. No one else. They gazed into each other’s eyes as Ricky sang the last lyric.  
“Let me share this whole new world with you…”  
  
Then pregnant silence. Riccardo penetrated the mist in Mille’s eyes.  
Ricky blinked.  
Mille flushed red.  
Riccardo was lucky he was aware of the applause and that people were watching their every twitch because honestly he was ready to pounce on him.

-  
They saw each other just a few minutes later and Ricky winked at Mille from across the room.  
Mille turned scarlet. Somebody giggled nearby. Did they know?  
Fuck it. Mille didn't care if they did or not.  
  
Riccardo unglued his eyes from him just long enough to navigate the bodies in the room. Closed the distance between them and with each step Mille’s breath shortened further.  
"Ciao," Mille said, meekly. _Hey._ He looked down at the ground and then let his gaze drift back up to Ricky’s gorgeous, grinning face.  
"Ciao Mille," Ricky replied, voice a rumble in his broad chest.  
Mille’s confidence from moments ago evaporated like the alcohol nearly gone from his cup. Ricky’s magnetic eyes were liquid pools of desire. The sparkle in them spelled mischief.  
“Bella festa,”  _Nice party_ Riccardo commented superficially before slowly licking his lips. A sip of whiskey followed.  
Mille gulped.  Wished there had been more vodka in his drink.  
Riccardo just went for it.  
"Ascolta. Non è che...?" _Listen. You wouldn’t wanna?_ A lilt of the head indicated the door leading to the bedrooms. One corner of his perfect mouth curled.  
And then Riccardo smirked. That fucking smirk that made desire burn through the pit of Mille’s belly and sent his pulse racing.  
  
Mille drew in a stuttered gasp. "Magari." _Maybe._  
The tone was panicked. Unsure.  
_What the fuck are you thinking Mille?! Of course you want to._ He instantly regretted saying that.  
“Magari?”   _Maybe?_ A dark eyebrow raise asked before Riccardo even uttered the word. He sucked in some air in what seemed a half-laugh.  
Mille came to his senses. Shook the anxiety from his head like a cobweb. They’d been dancing around this for months. What did he fucking want, a love declaration? What were they, in middle school?  
Both knew all they wanted was to lose themselves in one another. Physically above all. The sexual tension was suddenly thicker than the icing on Cecilia’s cake.  
“Che cazzo sto dicendo. Sì. Certo. Sti cazzi… ” _The fuck am I saying? Yes. Of course. Shit…_  
The hardness of bare sex beneath his tunic was convincing him.  
“Allora andiamo… Padre.“ Riccardo winked once more. The final blow.  
Fuck me, Mille thought when his cock shot up another inch.  
  
-  
  
They strolled to the furthest bedroom, nestled at the back of the villa. Judging from some noises coming from behind the closed doors, they weren’t the only ones to have this idea.  
Mille was dying. This was the longest fucking walk ever. Like the green mile except it wasn’t towards certain death, it was towards certain _sweet_ death by sexing with Riccardo Scamarcio.  
All the while Ricky had a hand in his pocket and was whistling under his breath. _Fucker._  
  
The door slammed behind them. Riccardo’s composure extinguished like the cigarette he’d lit earlier. Mille couldn't remember who made the first move… and did it really matter?  
Their first kiss was rough. Bleeding need. Teeth clashed, tongues obscenely offered for the sole purpose of being sucked. When their lips grazed, nipping and tugging on pink flesh, Riccardo raised his smooth palms and cupped Mille’s cheeks until their faces scrunched and their breathing hitched.  
Mille took air in through his nose, inebriated by the scent of spice and musk emanating from his lover’s skin.  
Riccardo let a load moan escape him, Mille smiling against his lips.  
  
Mille pulled away. Briefly. Licked the slick from his pout and put to memory Ricky’s taste.  
Ricky was icy pomelo on a summer afternoon. Refreshing. Salty.  A bit sour. And just a hint of the tobacco, but not as much as Mille thought there would be.  
  
Riccardo’s feelings took hold and turned his mind to mush.  
“Ti voglio,” his breath tickled Mille’s ear as he held him close.   _I want you._  
“Ricky…” Mille begged, the name smooth against his tongue. “Prendimi.” _Take me._  
  
Riccardo growled, clutching Mille with clawed fingers, pulling at the fabric of his tunic to feel what was underneath. The telltale shape stood out between them, especially with the weight it had against Mille's thigh.  
Ricky remembered pleasantly that Mille wasn’t wearing any underwear. It had been thrown on stage earlier.  
He dropped in prayer. Mille hissed when his sex was exposed. He lifted the dark material over the tenting, bunching it at his stomach.  
The reddened crown was dewy and the vein running along the “priest’s” impressive member visibly throbbed.  
“Cazzo Mille.” _Fuck Mille._ Riccardo slinked down, stayed his thighs. Licked the tip with the rosette of his tongue until slowly the heat covered its length like a cloak.  
“Fuck,” Mille groaned, slipping back into his other mother tongue. His free hand fisted into those silky curls, a half-lidded view of Riccardo Scamarcio choking on his cock below.  
_Remember this._  
  
Riccardo was _humming_ on his sex as he worked the shaft. Jesus, the constriction around his crown was _perfect_ and fuck if Riccardo’s five o’clock shadow grating lightly against the sensitive flesh of Mille’s inner thigh wasn’t heavenly.  
Speaking of heaven, the rosary looped into his belt to complete the outfit swung against his hip with every dip of Ricky’s hot mouth. The moist ridge of his muscle ran along the thick member until Mille couldn’t fight it anymore.  
Jesus Fucking Christ.  
Ricky felt him tense. Blinked. Lips sealed around the head in promise, Riccardo hollowed his cheeks as he pumped him, two handed. Jade eyes speckled with amber urged his lover on.

If this were a penance, there wouldn’t be enough Hail Marys, Mille thought.  
“Vengo Rick… vengo… “  _I’m coming, Rick. I’m coming._ The first spurt came violently, splashing the back of his throat. Mille’s knees nearly gave. “Cazzo Ricky! Cazzo!” _Fuck Ricky! Fuck!_  
  
Riccardo swallowed it all down. Just a droplet remained on the heart of his upper lip and Mille fucking lunged at him when he pulled off, tasting himself on his swollen, ruddy lips when he insisted on kissing him.  
“Ma quanto sei sexy, Dio Santo?!” _How sexy are you, sweet God?_   He whispered, eyes burning into Ricky’s.  
  
Riccardo shoved him against the wall, Mille’s lower lip still trapped between his teeth. A finger hooked into his Roman collar as he undid his pants with his other hand.  
“Fai come ti dico io, Padre, e ti assolverò di tutti i tuoi peccati.” _Do as I say, Father, and I’ll absolve you of your sins._  
“Oh my God,” Mille muttered under his breath.  
  
Ricky flipped him, nudging a knee between his strong legs.  
“Stai fermo,” _Stay still_  Ricky commanded and holy hell if Mille didn’t fucking cum a little all over again, the release trickling down the inside of his thigh.  
Riccardo threw the jumper on the bed. Shimmied out of the pants and his briefs went with them. Mille admired it all… his superlative body… the ridges of his abs and the dark curls nestled above the most beautiful dick Mille had ever seen. Long, thick. A ringlet of pink flesh peeking from beneath the foreskin.  Riccardo wanted him… needed him right then and there. He pushed Mille down to his knees.  
The younger reached for it, fisting it at the base. Kitten licks on the shiny tip.  
“Come sei voglioso…dimmi che mi vuoi.” _You’re so needy. Tell me you want me._ Ricky liked to see him so hungry for his cock.  
Mille nodded. “Ti voglio, Ricky. Cazzo ti prego… ” _I want you, Ricky. Fuck, I’m begging you._  
Placing the tip against his gaping mouth, Riccardo’s hand reached around to the back of Mille’s head. Inching it in, Mille’s lashes fluttering as he looked up at him in want… Riccardo ordered: “Allora succhialo.” _Suck it then._  
  
Mille went down on him like it was his fucking job, the briny glans hitting the back of his throat like a jackhammer. Riccardo lamented from above, loud moaning between giving instruction as Mille sucked and licked his shaft.  
“Si, così… più forte… “ Mille increased the suction, purposely loosening until he could take all of him in. Unhooking his jaw, he went balls deep and Riccardo then cradled his head. With quick snaps of his hips, he face fucked him.  
Mille was an expert. Applied pressure and took it away. He blinked back tears... gurgled and spit trickled down his chin but he didn’t ask to pull off until it was Riccardo who realized he was too close. This couldn’t end so soon.  
“Cazzo, Mi… “  _Fuck, Mi…_  
  
Riccardo used his muscled body to pin Mille against the wall. A hand moved lightly down his inner thigh, spit coating his digits. Mille hissed when he got there, to his opening. He wanted to be fucked by Riccardo more than anything else in the world.  
“Scopami Ricky,” _Fuck me, Ricky._  
In and out, the ribbed opening swallowed two fingers. A brush of his gland and Mille’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. Riccardo chuckled.  
“Così? Vuoi che ti scopi così?” _Like this? You want me to fuck you like this?_  
Riccardo put in a third finger.  
There were teeth, and nails, and then more heat. Clenching and unclenching of muscle. Mille white-knuckled the fabric of his tunic that he was still holding up. Riccardo insisted on him keeping it on.  
“Ricky ti prego… “ _Ricky I’m begging you._ Mille’s skin was on fire. Every nerve sensitive… each graze fucking sweet torture.  
Riccardo had never been this turned on by anyone. The smell of cum and sweat in the room messed with him, with his senses. He needed to fuck him… to be inside him NOW.  
  
“Apriti,” _Spread for me_  Riccardo whispered, his breath warm and sweet. Just the tip of his tongue teased the corner of Mille’s gaping mouth. Mille’s feet slid apart and he let his head dip low between his arms.  
“Aspetta che prendo… “  _Wait while I get…_  
Blinded by longing, his entire body aching for him… Mille glanced over his shoulder. Pupils blown in lust as he shook his head. “No. Ti voglio sporco… facciamo senza.”  
_No. I want you dirty. Let’s do it without._  
  
The knowing look. The smirking wink. It was worse than any instrument of sexual torture.  
“Sicuro?” _You sure?_  
Riccardo trusted him. Knew he didn’t fuck around. He inched forward, his glistening member bouncing against his stomach. A gentle nudge lifted Mille’s ass, lined up with Riccardo’s bleeding cock.  
Mille’s head bobbed. He smiled suggestively, saliva filling his mouth at the longing.  
“Raw me.”  
“Cristo…” Riccardo grunted. _Christ._  
  
He dropped his head to nuzzle into his throat. Dick twitching in his trembling hand.  
“Guardami Mille.” _Look at me Mille._ A lick of slick lips and a bat of thick lashes.  
“Sei mio?” _Are you mine?_  
Mille swallowed hard. Nodded. “Sì sono tuo… tutto tuo Ricky… “  _Yeah I’m yours. All yours._  
With a lazy, sensuous movement his tongue entered Mille’s mouth again. Claiming it. Claiming him. And then his sex followed.  
Hands bracketed his waist as he entered him, one deep and desperate thrust enough to reach the hilt. _  
_ “O cazzo…” _fuck_ …  They both groaned.

When he buried himself completely inside, it was like diving in the ocean. A dull in consciousness, Riccardo’s vision blurred and his hearing silenced by their racing pulses.  
The air was sucked from Mille’s lungs with a sharp gasp.  
“Si cazzo… così… “  _Fuck yeah… like that._ Riccardo snaked his powerful arm around Mille as he moved inside him, holding him like he was trying to save them both from drowning.  
The drag on his cock was so fucking perfect it brought tears to his eyes. He dug into slim hips and pounded Mille until he was cheek to wall.  
Mille settled back, seeking him.  
“Di più, voglio di più.” _More. I want more._ He uttered it in a soft whisper, almost in apnea, the need so tight in his chest it made his breathing short.  
  
With the next thrust, deeper and more violent than ever before, black tufts sprouted from between Riccardo’s fingers as he yanked Mille’s head back. His tongue wandered up the cord of his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, making him shudder against his bare chest.  
“Cosi? Vuoi il mio cazzo così, Padre?” _Like this, you want my cock like this, Father?_  
Mille could barely stand, drunk on lust and Riccardo’s very essence.  
“Si…cosi…ti prego.“ _Yeah. Like this. I beg you my child._  
  
Riccardo rolled his hips. Expletives rained down and Mille couldn’t believe it, but the heat was rising in him AGAIN. What was this man doing to him?  
Chest rising and falling against his back, Riccardo fucked him in a sweet rhythm, slow and deep until he himself skirted his end.  
The concave hollow of Mille’s spine tingled at every touch. The ache… the emptiness of his loins now filled with delicious hot thickness.  
Mille pushed back on every plunge as if all of Riccardo’s huge uncut cock still wasn’t enough. The recoil allowed Mille to fuck himself.  
“Mille… Mille ….sono… “  _Mille… Mille I’m…_ Riccardo hiccuped.  
He made as if to pull out. Mille sucked in his lower lip, shuddering under him in complete abandon.  
“No… vieni dentro.” _No… come inside me._  
“Oh Cristo santo! “  _Oh_ _Jesus Christ!_  
  
Riccardo barely finished his cry when he broke. Thick warmth spilled into Mille repeatedly.  
It was delicate. Polite almost. Like pouring warm oil over your skin and allowing it to drench you in its softening silkiness. That’s kind of what it felt like to be inside Mille, too.  
Mille’s hand milked his third orgasm from his own dick as the jizz dripped onto the floor in front of his feet in slow, obscene plops.  
Panting against Mille’s back, Riccardo kissed him gently between the shoulder blades. Up his nape to the sweep of his cheek.  
His hand reached around but there was no need. His fingers ended up in warm stickiness. Mille had come almost with him, so intensely he couldn’t even articulate a lament.

Everything about their first lovemaking was hurried and bordering on desperate. It was long in coming and they desired a quick release, (at least that first night it was so).  
Once orgasms faded, their sweaty bodies slowly broke apart. The taste of Ricky's lips (and other things) still lingered in Mille's mouth as they finally looked upon each other with new eyes.  
There was tenderness now. A mutual understanding.  
  
“Che dici Ricky? Ci vediamo ancora?” _What do you say, Ricky? We gonna see other again?_ Mille asked hesitantly, letting the robe drop back down over his nakedness.  
With an edge, almost as if he was afraid of being rejected, he reached for him.   
"Mi piaci tanto, Ricky."  _I like you a lot, Ricky._  
Riccardo’s grinning mouth swooped down to capture Mille’s one more time. That fucking sparkle to his eyes was back, replacing the want.  
He grabbed him by the chin and nodded slowly as he pulled him into an embrace.  
"Mi piaci tanto anche tu, Mille. E che dire? Certo che ci vediamo. Ça va sans dire.”  _I like you a lot, too Mille. What else is there to say? Of course we're gonna see other. T_ _hat goes without saying,_ he replied with a devastating wink.

-

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another installment of my insanity. Thanks for reading!  
> I'm gifting this to a person who truly appreciates Ricky, and who also lent me her signature phrase. That’s true friendship right there. <3  
> The title is from the movie of the same name. 
> 
> This song made me think of these two:  
> But I can’t stay the same  
> In the middle under a cold black sky  
> The sun can only burn for you and I –   
> Stone Sour - "Taciturn"


End file.
